


Hell Hath No Fury

by Rantourus



Category: Fallout (Video Games)
Genre: Age Difference, Canon-Typical Morality, Canon-Typical Violence, Ceasar's Legion, F/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Wastelander, Yeah he is an asshole
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-09 07:41:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12271959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rantourus/pseuds/Rantourus
Summary: When the Legion raids camps they take more than just things, they take lives and families. They pull apart people at the seams to break them into what the Legion needs. Canon fodder, workers, broodmares, children to raise as fighting machines. Not all who are taken can be broken and not all who are taken can forge their own path. Will Second be that? It's anyone's guess.





	1. Damn… Damn. Damn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [josh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/josh/gifts).



> Without you, there would be no Bastardus and what is Second without her first love? Thank you for your kindness, love, and devotion. To many more years of our relationship. I love you, babes. So very much. Enjoy!

_ Heat. _

Flesh blistering heat. This was all she could feel. Why was this searing heat the only thing she could feel? But more importantly why was it so hard to breathe? Why was is so dark she couldn’t really see?

It felt like she was coming out of a coma. The world slowly pulling into focus but it was still so damn dark. Then it struck her why it was so hard to breathe and why every breath in burned and tasted of ash and death. The air was filled with dark smoke and heavy ash and the world she knew was burning.

Like she was watching one of those pre-war holovids. Only this was much much worse. Screaming, running, yelling, and the sound of metal ripping through soft flesh. She knew what this was, she had been on many of these types of runs. This was a raid. Hearing the words being yelled by the people raiding her home, she knew them. Not really what they meant but she had heard them before. This was a Legion raid. This was war.

“Alanna! Wake up! Run!”

Rubbing her eyes then face, she looked, no she stared at the massive brute of a man. As he grabbed people left and right only to toss them like ragdolls. This was not how she was going to go out. This monster was going to feel her wrath. Crouching down she pulled her blades from her boots and grinned like a damn Cheshire cat. Standing she gripped the bone handles tightly as she ran, not like the voice told her to, not away from him but straight towards the beast. If she was screaming she didn’t know, she couldn’t hear her own voice, her focus was all on him.

The blade sank into the hard thigh of the brute, she looked at his face as it contorted and expressed pain that quickly segued into pure unadulterated anger. A sadistic smile spread over her lips even when she felt his massive hand wrap around her throat. It stayed even as when she was held up to his face and she could feel the hot wet breathe of the beast on her lips. It was like she didn’t care, which at the moment she didn’t. Not even trying to claw at his hand around her throat or kicking and screaming or begging for mercy. She knew there was no point and so she would enjoy angering him more with her laughing and enjoyment of his scare tactics.

Feeling the air rush from her lungs as her back slammed into the hard dirt below them. In this moment she lacked any type of response. Her body stunned and her mind reeling from the blow to the back of her head, though there was no pain for the moment it just felt distant to her. Watching as his hold shifted, feeling his hold on her left arm tighten, she smirked and her eyes distantly dared him to do it.

_ Snap. _

_ Crack. _

_ Screaming. _

Left forearm in searing white hot pain till in just a moment notice it was gone, nothing as he let go of her and began to move on. Laughing, no cackling like a damn hyena, she slowly began to get to her feet. All her laughing brought the attentions of the beast again. Locking her eyes with his as she again charged him, left arm dangling freely as it pleased. This scene shocked the Legionnaire, even though he had seen a lot in his time, a girl charging him with a useless arm was not something he was really privy to. This left her an opening as she felt her blade barely catching his flesh before again his hand was wrapped around her throat.

“Must be stupid.” A voice like rolling thunder as it poured effortlessly from his lips. If this had been any other moment she would have instigated things further than this little dance she was doing with him. Though what she did do was spit in his face with a smirk on her lips her reward for that action being a few shots to the gut. Again tossing her aside to continue on with his work.

Rolling over to her back she looked up at the hazy night sky and smiled, memories of time passing by of her family looking up at the stars and laughing. Groaning she sat up, then got to her knees and laughed at him again, “Is that all the bull has?” Knowing full well she was going to regret this, again staring the beast down with a smile on her face.

Turning his attention back to her, it was plain to see is agitation at this girl not knowing how to stay down. Though her display was impressive for a woman, he was done with it. Growling as he moved back to her, grabbing her for the third time, his arm pulling back.

_ Crack. _

Feeling the warm crimson liquid run down her face she smiled still, even as she felt herself fall into the cold dark embrace.


	2. Is This Heaven? No, Didn’t Think So…

Why did everything have to hurt so bad? Not like she had a rough night in a good raider party kinda hurt, but that did anyone get the number of the bus that just hit me kind. Wincing Second tried to move her left arm only to think better than to continue with this thought. Looking around it was hard to tell where she was, hard to pinpoint what she was in. What she could tell was this was not her shack with her family. It wasn’t a shack, a ruined house, or anything else that said normal life for her. Looking to her left arm she stared at the splint, ‘At least it is treated?’ Her inner thoughts escaping in a deep sigh. Groaning as her gut and abdomen began complaining about the pain they were in. It having been on the receiving end of a beating. Her hand moving to her face to rub and try to pull her focus only for her fingers to brush against the black and blue skin of her nose. Jumping a little it was painful and tender.

“The fuck did I do?”

Slowly sitting up her mind began to piece together what had happened to her and the kind of trouble she was in. Taking her time to look around the tent she began to put together what kind of trouble she was in. Scooting to the edge of the bed she looked down and around before trusting her surroundings enough to stand on her own two feet. Arm cradled over her chest as she slowly moved around the tent, taking time to almost memorize everything that was there and figure out a way to use things to kill, escape, or beat anyone who came into the tent. Finally making it to the flap of the tent she slowly pulled it open enough to look outside of the canvas walls. Men in leather skirts. Legion. If as if the world was slamming her mind into focus as she let go of the flap and turned to look at the contents of the tent again. Her eyes picking up the tail tale signs of Caesar's Legion that she seemed to have skipped over in her thoughts of murder and running. Focusing on every little detail that screamed and yelled Legion she almost didn’t hear the outside world.

Hearing footsteps outside she darted for the bed, quickly getting back into the same place she had woken up at. Wanting to look as if she was still out and maybe get a little revenge on whoever thought they owned her. It was time to play spider and the fly. Wanting him to get close so she could sucker punch him and book it for freedom. Even though she had not heard the flap move she was sure this was the beast, who else would keep something so wild. So dangerous. When the flap finally moved and the footsteps moved inside the tent she had to keep calm, keep still. Her mind listening to the footsteps and knowing them as the beast she had stabbed in the leg. Soon the sounds of his breaths drew closer and closer.

_ ‘This is the moment I die. Fuck him.’ _

The bed shifted from weight moving onto it. Someone crawling onto the bed and then over her. Feeling his knees on either side of her thighs she smirked giving her attack away had he been paying attention. A split second and bam, she could hear the squealing as he cupped his ever tender bits while falling over and then off the bed to the hard floor below. With a shot of adrenaline, she sprang from the bed, ignoring her body’s protest to this action. Looking down at the man, well more like a boy, she pounced like a wildcat. Using only her right fist she started to go to town on the boy’s face.

“Never. Without. My. Fucking. Permission. You. Fucking. Asshole. Bullshitting. Fucktard. Of. A. Shit. Eater.”

Every word paused with the hit of her fist against his face. She was giving into her body’s chemical reaction. Allowing her high to dictate her actions, even though this was not the beast she fought in the night. She was going to show them all what she meant. The savage beating would have continued on had something not derailed her mind. A hand grasping her wrist and holding her in place.

“He is done.”

Looking up at him she snarled and bared her teeth at him. Which only caused to make him chuckle at her display. Jerking her hand free she moved off the beaten boy and glared at the beast. Angry over how he had outsmarted her. He had known she would attack. Planned for it even. The whole thing irritated her. Who the hell was he to know her? No one.

“Dismissed, recruit. Slave, bed.”

Dark brown eyes fixated on the boy as he scrambled to his feet, gave some sort of rushed salute and dashed for the tent flap. Cocking her head a moment before her attention turned to the brute. As if she was going to turn into the model slave and just fall in line to this slave command. Scoffing and rolling her eyes she moved to push past him only to be stopped by his arm across her chest.

_ Crack. _

_ Scream. _

_ Pain. _

Having mindlessly struck him with her left arm, she felt the pure unadulterated pain as it seared up her arm and into her chest. The pain sending her to the ground as tears began to well in the corners of her eyes. Cradling her arm she whimpered only to hear a grunt or sigh come from the beast.

“So you do feel pain.”

The statement infuriated her. Staggering to her feet again she glared. Striking out at him she aimed for the bandage on his thigh where her blade had been driven in. She felt the strike, it hurt to hit him. Dense muscle hurt to hit. Like a damned tree. Growling she had at least dropped him to a knee. Seizing the opportunity she darted past him, her eyes on the prize of the tent flap of freedom. Only to be jerked back into the cold hard reality with searing hot pain in her left forearm.

“Fucking bastard! Fuck you!”

Turning her torso towards his grasp she had a rather half-crazed look in her eye as she leaned her lips to her upper arm and bit. She seemed hellbent on trying to gnaw off her own arm like some coyote in a bear trap would chew a leg off to free itself. Though he wasn’t about to allow it, it would cost him some pain as her teeth sank into his hand as he pushed her face away from her arm.

Growling his grip on her face shifted, holding onto her chin he quickly slipped his arm around the small off her back and pulled her tightly against him. There was power and strength behind the holds but there was also a soft touch, a restraint of sorts. He wanted her to heal. He wanted her strong. He wanted her in the most primal of ways. He also lacked any sort of trust in allowing her close to him. Wanting to see if she could be domesticated like a good Legion Mongrel. Only then would she be fit to be a good stock.

“You are the slave. I am the master. You will follow what you are told. Your life will be good. Don’t follow and you will wish for death.”

She was trapped again but she was nowhere close to broken. Knowing she had to get free but also understanding that she had to heal because there was no way she would make it far in the state she was in.

“Fine,” her tone sharp and pointed as it gruffly passed through her clenched teeth. Relaxing only as he released her from his hold and then pointed to the bed. For the moment she did as told and climbed back onto the bed sitting in the middle of it. Favoring her forearm her eyes boring into him with so much contempt she could have killed him with just a look. Focused on what he was doing as he began to strip his armor from his form. Legs, chest, shoulders, and arms in a practiced and routine manner before his hands dipped down to the belt and leather skirt. Averting her gaze as he pulled them both away and stood there naked before her. She could hear him chuckling at her shy reactions to his current clothed status and it seemed to again infuriate her. Eye rashly darting up to look at him only to see his lower half wrapped in a loose red cloth.

“So what is the point of me?”

Feeling the cool gaze of the beast on her and his throaty purr as he debated on how to answer her question of him. Eyes filled with contempt never leaving him as he crawled onto the bed. His face mere inches from hers before his massive hands wrapped around her jaw and pulled her lips to his. Quick reaction was simple, bite. Catching his lower lip in her teeth she bit to draw blood and inflict pain. While he recoiled the back of his hand striking across her face sending her cowering back.

“Domestic will be your new name. You will answer to it. You will follow orders when given them. You will be a good domestic.”

Holding her face with her hand she glared daggers at him. She hated him. She loathed him. She wanted him dead. He would rue the day he did this to her. All of this. Growling softly as he ignored the blood dripping from his lip and climb into the bed next to her. Still glaring at him as he laid back on the bed and closed his eyes, assuming she was going to play nice.

“Prepare a meal. Clean my armor. Clean my tent. Now, Domestic.”

Eyebrow arching as she scoffed and shook her head. “Oh which domestic do you want? The one from the tent over or across?” With that quick quip, her fist struck his most tender of tender places. As he shot up she scrambled off the bed and him chasing after her in some half-crazed scene of a pre-war dog and pony show. Second’s agility was her only saving grace over the beast. Though he would finally catch once her energy waned and she slowed down. Feeling his fingers and hands wrap through thick black hair and jerk her back and towards him. Losing her balance she staggered back and nearly fell. Though it only gave him the control to drag her to his desk. Bending her over it, it didn’t take her long to understand where this was going.

“Fucking do it! I want it, baby. Oh, fucking hell do it. I want it so damn bad I can fucking taste it! Pull my hair just the way I fucking love it!”

Hearing his growl she quickly felt his breath on her skin as he held her down and pinned her to the desk. He was reaching for his gladius while he struggled to hold her to the desk.

_ Chop. _

_ Chop. _

_ Chop. _

Feeling the pressure of his body leave her own. Gasping for air as she had held it in preparing herself for what came next. Slowly sitting up she looked at the chopped hair on the desk flanking the grooves his blade made hitting the desktop. All of it was there. All of it. Hand moving to her head, fingers picking at the clumps of poorly cut hair on her head. Pupils dilated as she watched him go back to laying down on his bed. Silence was all she could give, no witty retort, no crass comment, nothing but silence. She was staring at him, lost, so very lost on what she was supposed to do. He had given orders, should she follow them? She was rather unsure but moved to the fire and stared at it for a long moment. Picking up this and that she started on a stew. Watching the pot for a few moments before getting up and heading for his armor. Picking up one of his shin guards she stared at the flaws and poor stitching of the leather. It bothered her as her fingertips felt over the leather and the flaws. Sighing she began hunting for tools to fix these issues she saw. Hunting through his desk and the few other places he could have stashed the tools she gave an exasperated sigh as she found nothing. Setting to her task of cleaning she cleaned, oiled and fixed what she could by hand. Granted she took more time than she needed to as she wasn’t too keen on her next task of cleaning the tent. Not that there was much to clean but she hated cleaning, she didn’t see the point of it half the time.

Groaning as the armor and clothing were done so she no longer had an excuse to keep putting it off. Even doing only as she needed it still looked about the same. Looking at the chunks of her hair on his desk she didn’t know what really to do with it. Gathering it up she glanced at the fire and shrugged a little. Burning them seemed like the best way, not that she was expecting the smell of burning hair to be that horrible. She could hear the growling of the beast in the bed a he seemed to not enjoy the smell either. Staying crouched at the fire she kept touching her hair, never had anyone ever done something like this to her. Beat her, call her names, berate her, sure but this was something vastly outside of the scope of horrible deeds done to her. He had stolen a freedom from her and she didn’t really know how to process it.

Stirring the pot of stew she listened as the bed creaked and groaned as he began to move then his footsteps as they drew closer to her. Not once did she look up. Even feeling his fingertips touch and feel his handy work. She didn’t shudder, she didn’t shy away, she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing she was lost and afraid.

“You’ll sleep on the floor, Latro.”

So now he was giving her a name. It meant nothing to her, other than something she couldn’t spin it against him. Glancing as she heard a chair creak and papers shuffling, raising a brow as he sat there going over things on his desk. Looking back at the stew pot she sighed wondering if she was supposed to bring him his food or wait for him to order her to do so. Mentally going fuck it, she stood up and filled a bowl before crossing the tent to his desk. Setting it on his desk she waited for him to say something or do something but there was nothing. Growling as she slunk back to her spot on the ground floor of the tent. Eyes set on the brute, anger blazing in them as her newly deep-seated contempt burned at full strength. She knew she was tired, exhausted even, though that didn’t mean she wanted to lay down. Fighting against her body wouldn’t do much more than her bitterly dropping onto the ground with a groan. Curling up some she kept her eyes on the brute as he worked in silence and ate every so often. Yawning she could have kept staring at him for the rest of her life had her eyes not gotten so heavy she could barely hold them open.


	3. Welcome to Hell, No, You Don’t Get Ice.

_ Wake up. _

_ Cook. _

_ Clean. _

_ Cook. _

_ Clean. _

_ Cook. _

_ Clean. _

_ Sleep. _

Day in and day out. The only thing that broke the monotone days were when the good “doctor” took a look at her arm, re-splint if needed or to tell her the same line of, “Don’t use it till told. Anything happens, send for me.” But even that started to become monotone. It was welcome the first time but soon became nothing. Though she had figured out that he was not really a doctor in more than a name, he just had a better track record of people not dying under his care. Like getting an award for not being an idiot, sure it was nice but hell it didn’t mean much.

Second was slowly being driven mad. Feeling her mind slipping. Is this what happened to wild animals? Growling softly she was starting to feel more and more crazed as she just seemed to stare at the flap. This was it. She had to get out. She had to escape. She would not die like this. Planning would be easy, his routine was simple and the same day in and day out, she figured mostly to drive her more insane. Tonight she would let him sleep first.

Once breakfast was done and over she would have a few hours to work out everything she needed. Watching as he left her as normal and gave her time to herself and to hunt down the supplies needed to make the powder the “doctor” gave her. The powder always made her sleepy and she had watched the Doc make it a few times, knowing somewhat what she was doing. Quickly finding what she needed, it wouldn’t take long to grind the root and the flowers together to make the stuff. Just had to work on where she was going to hide it and how she was going to give it to him. Slipping it into either his food or drink, the two best and easiest ways to do this.    
  
_ Why not both? _   
  
While she didn’t know if giving him too much could kill him, it didn’t really matter to her. Live or dead was the same to her as long as she had her freedom, what did she care.

Lunch passed quietly, nothing much happened, well nothing more than she seemed pleasant. Though one could chalk that up to her starting to crack under the stress the brute was applying to her. Fixing his food as his nose seemed to be into whatever it was that he did here. Which left her time to gauge how much powder she would need to put in his nightly meal. Always waiting to clean up after he left. 

His final returning to the tent she had kept up with her normal routine, no reason to blow this all now and she knew falling too far away from routine would ruin her plans. His nose as per usual was to his work, she could have been standing there naked as the day she was born and the man may never know. Smirking she silently fixed his food and drink adding in her little bit of magic. Heart pounding in her chest she had to fight her excitement, had to stay in control of herself, stay ahead of this game. Setting down the food and drink next to him she retreated back to her regular spot. Eyes fixated on him as he off-handedly drank and ate while she gave quick smirks and half smiles.    
  
_ A yawn here. _

_ A yawn there. _

_ A set of heavy eyes. _

_ A head shake. _

_ A dipping of the head. _

It didn’t take long for him to be snoring on his desktop, papers moved and pushed off the desk. Getting up she hunted for her blades, he kept them in his boots causing her lip to curl in annoyance. Darting for the flap of his tent, she stopped at it, fear washing over her as she stood still as a shadow in the night. There could be anything on the other side of this damn piece of material; a three-headed dog who could breathe fire, like the stories the mean one told her about as a child. A small glimmer of hope sparked in her thoughts as they seemed to began a spiral into a void of nothing but fear.

_ Freedom. _

Freedom was most definitely on the other side of this damn thing. That little spark of hope was on the other side and who really knew what you could do with that tiny bit of hope. Fingers grasping the coarse material she pulled the flap over and the cool night rushing passed her skin, goosebumps forming on her arms. Chest tightening as she looked out at the world that seemed to stand still. Like someone pushed pause on an old world holotape to take a breath from the emotional tide the words or music caused them to feel.

Pushing her fear back she forced her feet to move, scraping them across the ground as she found her hope. A brilliant flame in the darkness of her fear. Even though she didn’t know the way out she picked a direction and followed it. It was all she could do, not thinking she would have gotten this far in the first place. Darting and dashing through the tent paths she was going to do her best to avoid being caught and taken back to that fucking beast. Hiding every so often she listened to the words the men used as they passed by. Part of her wishing she could understand what they were saying. Mostly to find out useful information but that wouldn’t be her luck. Sighing as another patrol passed by where she tucked herself away from them. More footsteps heard behind those not long after they passed. It became clear that she needed to get away from the main footpaths of the tents, too many men, too little time.

Darting again she rushed for the furthest tent line, wanting to be away from these men, away from the chance of her freedom to be taken again. Chest heaving as she tried to get more air to her lungs, like hot iron. Hot iron. Arm throbbing, though that quickly faded as her adrenaline began to filter through her system, her panic and pain jump-starting the high she would feel off her own body chemistry.

Turning behind a tent she didn’t see him till she was already falling into his lap. Eyes wide as her worst fear hit her. Here was a Legion man sitting behind his tent surrounded by chems and she was just desperately trying to escape this place. For a moment it seemed rather ironic, she wanted an escape from this place and on some level, this man did too.

Seeming like hours had passed as she sat there till her mind caught up that he was holding her. If she screamed she would bring more of them. She might handle this one as long as it was just him. Panting like some wild animal she finally began hearing the words he was speaking.

“What pretty little brooder falls from Mar’s grace,” he stood with her in his grasp, “So who do you belong to? Because we should speak after this encounter.”

The way he spoke sent chills up and down her spine. Every part of her screamed that there was something wrong. That he was wrong.

“You can scream. You can cry. You can hate me. Hate your masters. But in the end, it won’t matter. You don’t matter. You belong to the Legion of the glorious Caesar. Meaning I am allowed to do as I please with what spoils the lands that have rendered unto Caesar provides me.”

Closing her eyes she gave up. The constant isolation. The Pain. The torment. Losing her simple freedoms. And now this monster had her, part of her mind thought about how the Brute she left wasn’t that bad. What could she do? Because like the man said, in the end, it doesn't really matter. The noise of a tent flap didn’t seem to phase her as this was it. Knowing this was it. Second was sure this was the last face she was going to see. The last voice. The last touch. Even now his grip on her left forearm tightening. It hurt only enough to keep her in the here and now. Closing her eyes she didn’t want to see what was coming, knowing it would be the end of her hope.

Falling through the tent flap she made little noise. Lip bleeding, new bruises, and slave rags. Crawling to her sleep spot she sat and watched the monster wake the beast. Emotionless dark brown eyes watched as the beast woke up angry and trying to fight while orienting himself, nearly hitting the monster. 

“Centurion Barbatus, ave true to Caesar!”

Still watching as the beast seemed slightly submissive and it didn’t take her long to understand her “master’s” position on the grand scheme of this place. Now she wanted to fix this. Needed to get her own revenge on the Centurion.

“You will take fifteen lashes in the morning, an extra detail, but I will allow you to keep your house pet. Though only if you swear your loyalty to me when the time comes. Doing this you will be rewarded. But if that does not work for you, you will be lashed till death and I will keep your spoils.”

He seemed to comply and this Centurion left. The beast moved to her, hand moving to touch her only to watch as she recoiled away and the look of panic and fear filled her eyes. Leaving her be he moved to his bed to sleep. Allowing Second to slowly drift into darkness and nightmares. What little sleep she did get was rudely disturbed with two men grabbing her and dragging her out of the tent. If she didn’t die last night she knew she was going to die now. Glancing over her shoulder she saw men leading the brute behind her.

‘At least he is going to die too.’

Hitting the ground she glanced around her, this was not what she expected as the beast was moved passed her to a post. A man was checking over a few whips. Having forgotten what the Centurion had spoken about last night but it didn’t take her long to figure out what was going on and what was about to happen. He was being punished for what she had done. Thoughts interrupted by the Centurion stepping forward and opening his big fat mouth.

“Fifteen lashes, makes sure the slave watches.”

Listening to the sounds of the whip cracking across his back, she stared at the beast as he made no sound and seemed to be staring back into her soul. For the moment she felt pity for the beast, had she stayed in the tent and never left he would not be being punished. Smelling the coppery scent in the air as the fifth lash cracked across his back she shut her eyes and waited for it to be done.

“Start your count again. The slave closed her eyes.”

Eyes quickly opening and moved to the Centurion. There was no joke in the man’s face. No hint of sarcasm or even a lie. The count started over again. Cursing herself as she had closed her eyes. Gaze back onto the beast as it seemed he never stopped staring at her. Though he took it a step further as he seemed to just not blink. Shuttering with each hit she couldn’t tell for certain that he hadn’t blinked.

_ Ten. _

_ Eleven. _

_ Twelve. _

_ Thirteen. _

_ Fourteen. _

_ Fifteen. _

It was over. There was silence. Even the noise of the chains being undone seemed to be distant and dull. He slumped against the post for the moment. Though Second would not be able to watch or follow him back to the tent. The two men who had brought her grabbed her again. Dragging her back towards his tent. Glancing over her shoulder she watched as the two men with the beast pushed him after the Centurion. This panicked her more. She was sure one or both of them would end up dead.

Yelping sharply as she hit the ground inside of the beast’s tent, quickly trying to scramble to her normal spot to sleep. Laying there she curled up and kept her eyes on the tent flap waiting for it to open and for the beast… Or the monster… Staring at this dirty stained tent flap she started picking apart how it could be fixed or made better even though she hated cleaning, it seemed normal to fall into the idea of playing the domestic house slave. Days seemed to pass even though that was a false sense of time, though she laid there through lunch and well into the evening. 

When the flap finally opened, chest tightened and air caught in her throat as she stared at him, as he didn’t stop to pull his armor free of his body. He didn’t stop to look over the papers on his desk. He didn’t stop to even speak or touch her. The bed groaned as his body limply collided with it, while his chest released a large sigh of air.

“You won’t be getting a doctor.”

Granted Second was rather unsure of what he meant, as it looked like he hadn’t seen the good Doc and needed too. Today she didn’t want to kill him as she got to her feet and approached his bed and started pulling off his sandals and leg armor. A deep growl came from him and all she did was growl right back at him, silencing the deep noise coming from him. Slowly and tenderly she tugged at straps and undid buckles from his legs inching up to his back. Pulling off his back piece she tossed it to the side, as it would need to be cleaned and she hoped he wasn’t attached to his cloth shirt they had put him in. Grabbing the blade from his hip she felt a hand snap around her wrist. Looking at him she growled softly, “Listen, I have to get this shirt off. I promise I won’t kill you today. I… I want… Just let me work.”

Sighing as he let go of her hand she took her time to try and peel the cloth from the deep cuts on his back. Having listened to the “doctor” when he was working on her arm, it gave her a little more information to help him. Needing clean water, bandages, and cloth, which was quick and easy for her to find. Working on his back made her use a rather delicate touch, slowly cleaning his wounds with the cloth. She was trying to make herself feel better, she could handle taking her own punishment for her own stupidity. When it came to someone else paying for her mistakes, well that was a hard pill to swallow. Once she had cleaned him up she quickly moved for bandages and that healing powder she had used on him.

“What did you use?”

Stopping as her hand touched the pouch of the powder she looked at him with a smirk, “The powder stuff. Made me sleepy. So I thought enough would make you sleep or kill you.” Moving back to him she had picked up a glass of water along with the other items she needed. “Will you sit up?"

Groaning as he shifted on the bed till he was up right and on the edge of the bed. Arms raising with his face twitching and contorting as he dealt with pain in silence. Eyes looking at her in judgment as she played nurse. Though there were points where his eyes drifted to the new marks and new wounds and they softened for a moment before seeming angrier. Not with her but with the fact that another man put his hands on his property. Something that amused him was the amount of concentration she used on trying to do a good job or well even a better job than that of the camp doctor. That’s when he noticed a single moment and he took it. Pulling her close his lips found the crook of her neck, soft kisses till a sharp pain was felt in his thigh. Letting her go was easy for the moment and it amused him to know she wasn’t fully broken.

“Who is the asshole?”

“Centurion Maximus Canas Barbatus. He leads this camp for Caesar. He is my commanding officer.”

“And a junkie. Likes his Buffout and Jet, Stimpacks too, which is kinda funny to be wanting.”

As his expression shifted when she spoke about the chem use of his leader, this clued her in rather quickly this was a no-no, this was not allowed. Smirking she moved from the bedside and crossed over to the stew on the fire. Quickly filling a bowl with stew before heading to his desk and setting it down. Falling back into her routine as she seemed a little more invested in playing the good slave. Moving to her spot and sat, debating about murdering him over the kiss or just sleeping till the pain was gone. She didn’t watch him walk to his desk and sit to eat, instead, she laid down and tried to rest. Even though her body groaned and complained about any pose she took. Tossing and turning this way and that till she finally gave up and rolled to her side with her back to him.

Then something new happened. Feeling something soft and warm drape over her along with something being dropped on her head. A pillow and a blanket. Smirking she settled in with her new gifts, resting as best she could, mind ever working on how to fix her standing and seek her revenge.

Morning came and went while she was allowed to rest through breakfast. Even with his shift in kindness began to paranoia her. She wasn’t sure if she should worry or take it at face value. Though for now, she wasn’t going to look a gift Big Horner in the mouth. Waking up she rolled over to see him eating silently at his desk. There was a feeling at the back of her mind said today was going to be a day.  Eyes darting to the tent flap as it moved and men stepped in. Half expecting for them to pick her up and take her to the monster for another encounter. Breathing became hard as if someone was winding a tight cord around her chest and every breath that escaped the cord was tightened quickly. Even as one of them spoke to the beast she could feel it become harder and harder to breathe.

“Legionary Bastardus, you will be leading a small cohort of men to an NCR camp they are building up.”

Sitting up she stared at the small group of men, mind drifting to thoughts and moments at the start of this journey to hell. She had called him a bastard at the start of this and now the irony of how she had been so close to his name when insulting him. Ears picking up the words of ‘the slave will be staying here,’ pulling her from her daydreams she focused on the men. Soon her mind was racing with thoughts, questions about what was going to happen, how long was he going to be gone, and most importantly… What about the monster?

“You have no more than two days, Centurion Barbatus’ orders are clear. Take out the camp and remind them the power of Caesar’s Legion. That the bull will always conquer the bear.” A salute and then they were gone.

Getting to her feet she crossed the tent over to him. Clearing her throat to draw his attention to her, starting to push her boundaries yet again. “How long, Bastardus? What am I suppose to do? Sit-” The expression on his face silencing her.

“You will stay here. Take care of my tent and keep your head down. When I return everything will be the same.”

And that was the end of it. He wouldn’t give her more. Now was time to start planning her work and to start her day.


End file.
